


Cressi day scenes

by temis



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Cressi Day 2k20, Ficlets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26874967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temis/pseuds/temis
Summary: As it says on the tin - scenes based on Cressi Day prompts
Relationships: Lionel Messi/Cristiano Ronaldo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Cressi Day 2k20





	Cressi day scenes

**Contact**

He woke up before Cristiano. On the twilight of the morning, he could see the silhouette of the Portuguese on the bed, deep breaths moving his chest, turned away from him, even if they went to sleep in each other's arms. It was one of the quirks of sleeping with Cristiano, like getting used to a far too animated talker (even while he was sleeping!). But it was more than worth adapting to it to have this: their understanding of each other based on similar experiences, the comfort of his presence, the way Cris always sought to cheer him up when necessary, his openness.

Leo observed his boyfriend, broad shoulders with freckles, chest resonating in his sleep, golden skin turned darker in the night. Impulsively, he reached out, touching Cris sides, feeling the smoothness of his skin over hard muscles, going up his abdomen and the six pack indents, then caressing over sensitive nipples, feeling them harden under his hands, how the sensations changed.

Cristiano slept too deeply to wake up, so he didn't worry about it as he slowly kept exploring his body, feeling the groove of a scar here, a small bump there, the fine hairs growing again on his arms, the coarser ones of what would be a beard. Pausing his exploration, his hand went back to Cristiano's chest, feeling it contract and expand with every breath, making him drowsy with the certainty of his presence.

Lodging himself behind Cris, Leo followed his example, falling sleep again until the sun rose on a new day.

**Shine**

Watching the TV, the glow of it was only comparable to the show going on - the marvelous way Leo did his absolute best to pass, evade and tear through the penalty area, lobbing the ball and changing directions faster than the defenders after him, leaving them on the grass, falling and failing. 

He hadn't allowed himself to notice the sheer presence Leo had on the pitch - he didn't change suddenly, but it was as if some things he kept locked down, parts of his personality appeared there and not in his normal life. His competitiveness, determination, the hunger for victory. It was understandable, the way news or commentators picked on it, contrasting with his public persona. He had thought the same before they started dating. It was easy to miss the signs in his behavior - how to read Leo's expressions and the subtle meanings of his intonation and speech. 

And it had driven him crazy more than once. Because he was blunt by nature, so Leo's way of communicating was truly a different language, even when they were both speaking Spanish. They had fought and made up, studied and compromised to and for each other, until their communication was less "spots of understanding in a sea of confusion", and more "I do not understand exactly what you want, I can see it is important for you, and I want to get to a compromise, but you have to explain to me in a different way first, because this is not working right now" - not perfect, not seamless, their way full of tripping rocks and possible falls, and yet, their way.

Coming back to himself, he noticed the game was almost done. 3 x 1 to Barcelona. No chance of recovery for Girona, not with Leo on the other team. He could empathize with their sadness, more than once it had been him left behind as a loser, wondering if he could have done more, if Madrid could have done better somehow, going over videos and plays and trying to absorb the most from Leo's technique for his own game where he could. Defeat still tasted like ashes in his mouth, salty and bitter, sticking there for hours after, unwashable.

Good thing then, that he had changed. He still dealt poorly with defeats, but with age came the wisdom that sometimes there was nothing that could be done (didn't mean it didn't hurt, sometimes it was worse, knowing yourself so outclassed), and the ability to let go of professional matters while not working.

And now, he had only half an hour to distract himself before Leo arrived home, their dinner perfectly cooked and waiting for them. It was always a gamble after games - Leo also didn't react well to losing. But this was a friendly game, and one where the whole world knows Leo is upset. It felt right to be here.

And when Leo opened the door, it was obvious he was tired, but more than that, there was a heaviness in his movements, an hesitation, as if he was not sure exactly where he was. He hated seeing Leo like that just because of Barcelona's board, imagining what he would do to Bartomeu if he ever got the chance (punches and kicks were the bare minimum - he still remembered a lot of the boxing he learned on Manchester United.)

"Goodnight, Leo" Walking through the the kitchen in the direction of the living room, he could watch Leo's face as he appeared. Incredulity, then sheer joy, smoothing away the lines in his face and making his eyes shine, attracting all his attention.

"Cristiano! What are you doing here? How are you here? What about your game tomorrow?" Even as Leo babbled questions, the Argentine threw himself at him, coming to rest on his chest, nuzzling and hugging him.

"I decided I needed to meet you, I knew it hasn't been that long, but I missed you. I took my private jet, so I was authorized to fly and land. I'm going back in the morning, so plenty of time to get ready for my own match - and I hope you will cheer for me" he kissed Leo's hair, still wet from the shower he took at the stadium, moving his hands and massaging Leo's sagging shoulders.

"Of course I will! I'm just... so happy to have you here" Leo's voice wavered for a moment, a hitch in his breathing, before he looked up, smile on his face even as his beard scratched on Cristiano's collarbone as he deposited kisses on his neck - with the game he couldn't leave marks as he would normally do.

"I wanted to support you, glad you liked your first surprise!" Cris said as he bent down his neck, finally getting close enough so Leo could, on tip toes, kiss him a proper greeting.

"First? You are pampering me, Cristiano" Leo huffed, on the curve of his neck, making the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"You are my boyfriend, last I heard I am supposed to spoil you and I want to. Besides, last time you went to Madeira, to check on me after my mother's health scare. Now come, the food is going to get cold"

Cris led him to the kitchen, hoping it would be enough to help Leo - giving him one more happy memory, on the place he was forced to be against his wishes. He couldn't change Leo's situation, but he could remind him he wasn't alone.

**Laugh**

It had been one of the first things that attracted Leo to the Portuguese forward. While Cristiano seemed to cultivate and care for his image every time he was on a TV show or magazine, professional smile and outfit in place, his laugh and his tears were always genuine, as if he was so overtaken with emotion he couldn't contain it. The first time Leo made the other player laugh had been during the Balon d'Or after party. He didn't remember the remark he had made, but whatever he had said, it had been enough to make his rival let out a hoarse laughter, the pure mirth of the sound entrancing him - he had never heard Cristiano like that before, and it intrigued the Argentine. So, when they met each other in shows and awards and every manner of event (even some he wouldn't have gone without the certainty of Cristiano being there), Leo sought him out, told him childhood tales, family jokes and school pranks, just so he could hear that same pure joy.

(Leo didn't notice at first - how Cristiano watched him curiously, how his gaze little by little softened, every time he heard a new fact of Leo, the human, the man, the boy. It was a surprise when Cristiano first kissed him, but a welcome one).

**Flavors**

Sweet things weren't his style - he preferred savory fare, if possible something healthy too. The contrast with Leo's preferences always amused him, how the Argentine would rather prolong his exercises than skip dessert. Slowly, he accumulated his own set of Leo's favorite foods: A jar of dulce de leche, two cans of coca-cola (it still baffled him Leo would drink one of them over a glass of juice...), a bar of chocolate and when he had warning Leo was coming, he made sure there was a steak (grilled, not milanesa or fried, he had his limits too!) for him, besides his own diet of chicken and fish.

It shouldn't surprise him how Leo tasted, not when he considered his sweet tooth, but kissing Leo... He could get addicted to the faint sweet taste he had, to the way he arched to meet his mouth and wriggled under his hands, desperately trying to get more contact, even as they were glued together, front to front. 

When Cristiano led Leo to his bedroom, all he could think of was experimenting all of Leo's flavors, all the ways he tasted under his tongue, all his sweet cries, his pleads and his desperation for everything Cris could give (and take from) him, learning the patterns and flushes under his skin (teaching his own).

He never regretted stocking Leo's desserts, but he did get addicted to him. 


End file.
